


Take me out

by capeofstorm



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capeofstorm/pseuds/capeofstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose wants to go out dancing. The Doctor obliges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take me out

She's been clubbing before, of course, Mickey had taken her, and her best mate Shareen loved to hit the best clubs during their nights out but she knows that this time will be new and exciting and she'll be seeing it all through his eyes and what’s more important she will be there with _him_.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun! I want to dance! I haven't danced since that time we got Jack from his ship," she whines, pouting her lips and batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated manner.

"It's not as if I can keep you from dancing when you haven't danced since nineteen-forties," he replies with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

She squeals and jumps to hug him briefly before running to her room. She really hopes TARDIS will deliver on this one. Soon enough she's in front of the wardrobe, rummaging through clothes fit for other times and planets. She nearly gives up when she finds _it_ and it is brilliant - dark blue, rather clingy and _backless_. She takes off her usual hoodie and T-shirt and puts the top on. She looks in the mirror on the door of the wardrobe and decides the jeans have to stay. They fit her nicely, she thinks as she turns around, but the bra has to go. She takes it off and lets her hair down from its usual ponytail. She grins as she grabs a leather jacket from the wardrobe and shrugs it on. They are going to have so much fun!

The Doctor is waiting for her, leaning casually by the rails, his hand petting the metal absentmindedly. She has to bit back the groan that wants to escape her; she really hopes tonight will prove successful. She grabs his hand when he raises his eyes to her and practically drags him out of TARDIS. He's grumbling good-naturedly, something about teenagers and popular culture and she decides to let him because she's planning to blow his mind and make him eat his words later on.

They arrive at a club with strict over-21s admission, the Doctor flashes the guard both the psychic papers and his manic grin and they are let in. The Doctor leans in close to her, his voice raised over the music,

"Do you want something to drink?"

She shakes her head, notices a corner full of coats and pulls him towards it. She turns around to him and puts her hands under his jacket, her palms splayed wide, the heat of his body seeping through. She can feel the steady heartbeats and fancies she can feel them picking up. He raises a questioning eyebrow at her as she pushes his jacket off his shoulders and throws it on the pile. She's smiling as she shrugs off her own jacket and it sails the same direction his did.

"No drinking. We're here to dance," she shouts over the thumping music.

She doesn't even have to reach for his hand because his fingers are already slipping through hers and as she turns around to lead him to the dance floor she can feel his fingers tightening when he notices that her back is bare.

The music is already making her feel sexy and his reaction only adds to it. She throws him a wink and a delighted grin over her shoulder and they are finally on the dance floor.

She starts to move, her hand still safely in his. She's facing him now, her whole body moving to the rhythm, her hips swaying and his eyes are taking her in, his body rocking slightly to the music. She laughs, the sound lost in the music as she gesticulates to him to show her his moves. He grins broadly at that and raises their joined hands to twirl her around, bringing her to an abrupt halt by pulling her closer, her back to his chest. His arm tightens across her stomach and she lets out a shuddering breath. It always make her dizzy to be so close to him and as much as she laughed each time her mates mentioned having butterflies when close to their crushes, she totally understood them now. They are rocking gently from side to side, his breath messing her hair and warming her cheek.

She wonders how they look to other people, tangled in this position, him with his arm across her body, his other hand splayed with fingers wide on her hip, his head lowered to rest on the top of hers and her closed eyes, her lips stretched in an enraptured smile. She knows they don't look like a parent and child at this moment and she's thankful that she doesn't feel anything remotely resembling feelings for a fatherly figure towards him, quite the opposite. People around them are bouncing and grinding against each other, so frantic and desperate, such contrast to her and her Doctor.

She feels his fingers slip under the hem of her top where it nearly covers her hip but not quite. It's intoxicating to feel even this little skin on skin contact and she wonders how she would feel if he trailed those clever fingers across her bare back. She can't hold back the shudder she has at that thought, her head tipping back a little to rest on his shoulder.

Suddenly he's spinning her again and she's dizzy for another reason, tumbling ungracefully and nearly falling until she feels him catch her and bring her close to his chest. His hands are splayed wide across her bare back, so strong and warm and she can't help the sigh that escapes her at the feeling. Her own hands move up and around his neck, her one of her hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, the other dipping under his jumper, her fingers stroking the skin gently as if not to scare him away. She's looking up at him and feels smug to see his eyes are a darker shade than usual, his gaze focused on her and only her. She smiles, slow and sexy and dirty as she presses her body closer to his, judging his reaction.

She's not disappointed when his fingers trail along her spine, making her arch into him. His thumb traces the bones and comes to a halt at the top of her bum, the tips of his fingers brushing underneath her jeans. His other hand is playing with her hair, twirling a strand of it into a tight curl as his hand moves to cradle her head. Her eyes never leave his and she knows how she has to look, all flushed and heavy lidded, her breath coming in short pants. Never has a man played her so well before, or made her so breathless. He lowers his head, his lips brushing her cheek as he leans to her ear. She catches her breath as she feels his chest press harder against her breasts, his fingers teasing the skin of her back.

"If this is why you wanted to go out dancing, we didn't have to leave TARDIS, you know."

She doesn't know if she wants to moan or laugh so she lays her head on his collarbone, her face hidden in his black jumper and tightens her arms around his neck when she feels him move away. He understands what she wants and stays close to her, his own head moving to rest on her bare shoulder. She feels dry lips press a kiss to her skin and breathes in deeply. She gets a mouthful of his scent - cinnamon, sweat and something distinctly Doctor.

Suddenly the music is too much and she wants to get away from it, wants to be back on TARDIS where they can be alone, just the two of them, the way she likes it best. She turns her head, her lips brushing his ear as she speaks.

"Take me home, then," she says and kisses under his ridiculous ear which she came to love so much.

He straightens himself, their hands tangling without a conscious thought and he leads her through the mass of moving bodies. They find their jackets and he helps her slip hers on. As soon as he shrugs his jacket on, he draws her close, his arm around her shoulders and she presses her face into his shoulder, taking another whiff of his smell. She's smiling dreamily as they walk out onto the street and shivers when the cold air hits her. His arm slips away from her shoulder and she looks up at him enquiringly when she feels his hand slip under her jacket, his fingers caressing her back and settling on her hip, his thumb resting on the bare skin just above her bum. His fingers curl around her hip, intimate and possessive at the same time.

He smiles, a smile she hasn't seen before, confident and slow, his eyes full of intent and she bites her lip because that smile promises so many things.

"Home it is," he whispers into her ear.


End file.
